


Black Hole (The Effects of Gravity Remix)

by Garnigal



Category: Serenity (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 05:45:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4210197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Garnigal/pseuds/Garnigal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someday has come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Hole (The Effects of Gravity Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Spiralleds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiralleds/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Event Horizon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/76706) by [Spiralleds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiralleds/pseuds/Spiralleds). 



He keeps his eye on her, though never directly. He never directly thinks on her either, unless he’s thinking of her unexpected aptitude on the bridge, or her terrifying skills at dealing out pain to those who threaten her family. Otherwise she’s just one of the crew, just his pilot, just the doc’s baby sister.

Not that there’s much babyish about her.

He pulls his mind off that thought right quick, distracting himself with thoughts of their next job, a three day haul of surprisingly legal goods across a mostly empty stretch of black. Most haulers are keeping to short routes these days, hopping from planet to moon and back, then tucking up safe and sound in a spaceport.

It leaves those shipping goods in a tight spot. Either they have to only sell on planets and moons their regular haulers still ship to, or they have to find a series of trustworthy haulers that can get the goods to the more distant systems, paying each one their cut. 

Or they can deal with Serenity.

Mal has no intention of scurrying like a rat from spaceport to spaceport, no desire to cower in a sanctuary. They are safer in the black; Haven taught him that.

So they fly, planet to planet, system to system, taking jobs that keep them in protein and fuel.

They fly; she Flies.

She Flies like she moves; graceful, instinctual. She Flies like she argues; mathematical, precise. She Flies like she fights; fast, dangerous.

Not that he pays particular attention to her. She’s just one of the crew, just his pilot, just the doc’s baby sister.

Though she’s not like anyone else.

And there’s another thought he’s got to push away, to bury under memories both dark and light. He thinks of the war, both the war he lost and the one he won. He thinks of the losses from both, soldiers he trained, his own faith and hope, the Shepherd and Wash. He thinks of beautiful and distant Inara, of beautiful and untouchable Black . He thinks of seeing those doors open and River bloody but unbowed, willing to take on the entire Alliance if he asked.

His mind is not his own tonight, sucked towards her like a gravity well. He needs a new orbit, a distraction, a fight to bloody his knuckles or a heist to plan. Legal work will be the death of him, he knows.

He should be ambling towards Inara’s shuttle, pushing her from control to frustration, enjoying the flash in her eyes when she finally breaks the rules and gives into the temptation to use her wit to cut him down. He should be stalking down to Jayne, setting him to some menial and preferably filthy task and enjoying the merc’s only creative outlet - unending cursing. He’s never heard Jayne repeat himself yet, no matter what job he’s set to, or how many people are trying to kill them.

He could be in the engine room, checking that his favourite girl is taking good care of his other favourite girl, pleasing them both by promising new parts after the next job. He could be in the med bay, annoying Simon by asking why they keep him on now that they’ve gone straight. He could be in the galley with Zoe, talking about the next job and the job after that. He could be in his bunk… reading.

Instead, he finds that his feet are not his own either. He hesitates at the entrance to the bridge, eyes drawn to the one person he’s not yet used to alleviate the boredom brought on by legal jobs and money in the bank, the one person he’s not yet tried to push into annoyance just because he can.

“Have you finally lost interest in annoying everyone else and moved onto me? Or did they lose patience with you and send you here?” Her eyes never leave the stars, and there is no sign that she’d heard his approach.

The one person who he can’t sneak up on.

“I’ve no idea what you are talking about. I’ve been planning jobs and making sure my ship is in good enough shape that your crazy flying doesn’t crash her. Doing captainy things.”

“Planning jobs without the pilot to tell you how long the trip will take, without the pilot to tell you how much fuel we’ll need? And you say my flying is crazy.” There is no anger in her voice that he can detect, just calm rationality. That same calm rationality always makes his conversations with Inara so taxing. 

Somehow, on River, it’s much less irksome.

He wonders what she sees in the stars that makes her smile. He worries that it’s something she sees in his mind, but pushes that thought away, even as he sees her smile widen.

“My rationality isn’t hiding a deep and irrational passion, or a powerful need to control everyone around, unlike Inara. Mine only hides my craziness, and that not very well.”

“Have you been talking to Jayne again? You know he ain’t the best judge of crazy on this ship.”

“I’m not sure anyone on this boat can be considered a good judge of what’s crazy.”  
“Here now. I think Zoe’s a pretty good judge.”

“And yet she follows you…”

“I’ll be sure to tell her that you feel her judgement is suspect.”

He’s made his way to the second chair by now, keeping most of his gaze on the stars, just as she is. 

Most of his gaze. 

Just as he has had since Miranda, he keeps part of her in his sight, keeps part of his mind reserved for knowing her location and her mood at all times.

And so he notices, instantly, when she turns her head to look at him, look at him fully as she hasn’t since Miranda. 

And he tries to keep his eyes on the stars, but something greater demands that he return her gaze.

In that moment, dark eyes boring into light, he realizes. He’s been looking at her, from the corner of his eye, thinking on her with a corner of his mind. 

And she’s been doing the same.

And she has a smile she saves only for him.

And, his eyes never leaving hers, he reaches out and takes her hand.

“Finally.”


End file.
